You don't understand

You know what they say: You don't understand.
You haven't been through the same things, you don't understand.
You don't know the feelings, thought processes, and the waves that crash in on you.
You don't know.

But what if I told you that other than empathy, there wasn't just sympathy?
What if I told you that the fact that you were so important to me made me understand, just by how your voice broke at the end of your sentence, just by how you stopped talking and just sat there quietly, twiddling your thumbs... I saw and felt the amount of pain you suppressed?
That 'understanding' didn't necessarily mean that I have to go through the exact same scenario to feel for you?
That the best thing in this world: To understand and be understood: is the precious gift I wrap so meticulously in floral wrapping paper just the way you like it, with ribbon that odd shade of green, tissue paper that unusual crinkly kind that scrunches up at the corners---just to give it out to people like you who are so important to me.
So please, please, please... Don't say I don't understand because that scares me. It tells me you are going to set up barriers made of cold cement, not hear me, be all alone.. And you do.
I felt it, I sensed it, every nerve trembled to find the right word.
But I was at a loss.
Because you scared me and I have no way out or in.

I can only stare so helplessly at the one so important to me.